The Soldier and The Jew
by Katie1995
Summary: All Human!   Esme is a Jewish girl living in Nazi occupied Poland. Carlisle is a German soldier.  When their lives meet, they're changed forever.   Though they may be worlds apart in belief, culture and distance, one thing keeps them together. Love.  R&R
1. Times Have Changed

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or **_**Twilight **_**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Times have changed**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

Only three years ago, my life was normal.

I had a family, a life. Now everything was being destroyed before my eyes, and I all I could do was just sit and watch as the world came to destruction before my feet.

But times have changed. And it was all because of one man, with one aim.

To get rid of everyone like me.

I kicked the debris that littered the streets from last night's air raids. The members that were left from the broken family were huddled together in a tight circle.

It was just the fifteen year old daughter, her ten year old brother and their one month old sister. Their mother had been killed; their father was in the army.

How did I know?

I was their next door neighbour.

Notice the was. I _was_ their next door neighbour, but I doubted they would ever remember who I was.

I doubt anyone would know who I am now. For I'm not a person anymore, I'm a label.

People don't see me for who I am. They don't think I have feelings like they do.

I'm the reason why this is going on.

I'm Esme Platt.

I'm a Jew.

It's 1942, the stores I stroll be each day have either been ransacked by Nazi forces, or my community torn apart by the men they call soldiers.

I look everywhere and I'm shut out of the world. "Jude" is scrolled over the shop windows, the star of David bedside it.

I do not belong.

The star of David is stitched onto my trench coat, people look at me and avoid me, and I know, I do not belong.

"Come on, Sarah. We don't want to be associated with these types of people." The woman walked past me, whispering into her child's ear.

She didn't think I would hear, but of course, I did. I always did.

The alleyway was dark and dismal, much like the weather, much like the world.

I lived each day living on the edge, waiting, just waiting for the day I would be taken away. And I was scared, I'm not denying it, I was scared.

I'd seen what they had done to my friend's family after they realised they had been hiding my cousins in their cellar.

They were lined up on the streets, their hands behind their heads, German rifles pointed straight for them. The public were made to watch, and one by one, they shot them all; my friend, her family and my cousins.

The youngest was only eight. The youngest was my cousin, Kristina.

I was saved from death by the fact that they couldn't find me. I was hidden from view in my new family's flat, but I watched, and I sobbed, as the last of my family were killed by means of war.

"Esme!" Justyna's voice seemed to shock me out of my trance like state.

I hadn't noticed how cold it had become. My arms were hugging my body tightly and I realised, with slight embarrassment, that I had tears rolling down my cheeks. Brushing them away quickly, I looked up to find Justyna, my only friend, walk up to me.

"You shouldn't think about it, Esme." She took her place on the wall next to me.

"Then I would be pleased to know that you've come up with a way I can forget?" Clutching my hand, she sighed in defeat.

I laughed bitterly.

"But of course, Justyna, you would never know. It's not like you've lost your entire family."

"Esme!" She exclaimed loudly.

It was a low blow, but I was just so angry with the world.

"Why me, Justyna? Why us?" Angry tears began to fall thicker and faster and she pulled me into her.

"I don't know Esme; really, if I had the answer to that question then I would know how to end this stupid war."

I exhaled nosily and she brushed the tears away from my cheeks.

"Come on darling." She pulled me off the wall, fastening the top button of my coat. "Anna will be waiting for us."

Her hand found mine as we walked down the destroyed back streets and to the place we called home.

"You never know, Esme; there's always hope for a better tomorrow."

Her smile lit her face up and her eyes sparkled causing the dark tunnel that controlled my life, to ebb away just that little bit.

**A/N – This is the basis of the first chapter. It's explaining Esme's situation and back drop.**

**I hope you like it, and of course, once I get it going and things prepared, I'll have a better version up.**

**What do you think of it so far?**

**Katie :)**


	2. A Duty To My Country

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**_**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**A Duty To My Country**

**Carlisle's P.O.V.**

"Raus, raus!"

Dust covered the entrance of the secret passage way that led to the cellar of the book shop. The owners had just been found harbouring Jews in their cellar.

At the moment, the family that owned the store were being made to kneel on the floor, their hands behind their heads.

My rifle was aimed shakily at their heads, my fingers rested on the trigger, my mind reeling with disgust.

_I couldn't do this... I couldn't do this...I couldn't do this._

"Carlisle!" Friedrich Milch's ruff voice sounded from the cellar, my name rolling off his tongue and up the cold concrete steps.

"Sir?" I responded, my voice shaking along with my hands.

"You're needed down here, Cullen."

I lowered my rifle to the floor, risking a single glance over my shoulder at the cowering family before making my way into the darkened room.

"We need you to gather that scum up. Can you do that, Cullen?" His gun was pointed at the huddled group of mainly women and children. One man had his arms spread over the group, trying to protect them from what we all knew was going to come.

"Y-yes, Sir," I choked.

He shot me a crooked smile, before moving over to where the light shone through the cellar door.

"Good to hear, boy, good to hear."

His footstep echoed into the distance, followed by shouting and screaming.

"No, no, please!"

"Mother!"

A slap was next to follow. Degrading and disgusting, yes, but there was nothing I could do.

"Bring them up, Cullen. It's time to show everyone a lesson; what happens when you keep secrets."

The little girl squeaked into her mother's neck.

I gulped; a feeling of sickness deliberately churned my stomach upside down and the wrong way round.

"Up, now!" Charles Evenson, my "fellow" colleague dragged the girl and mother up the stairs roughly by their arms. The woman twisted and tugged in his grip, trying to find her daughter's hand, her dark brown ringlets dishevelled and in her eyes.

The girl was crying quietly, sucking her thumb as she clutched tightly to her mother's hand. Her knuckles were white with pressure.

"Maria!" A deep, rich voice bellowed across the room. I just turned round in time to see Charles hit him across the face with the back of his rifle.

"Aleksander!"

"Father!"

He fell to the floor, his arms covering his face. Blood trickled down his chin, dripping to the grey floor.

"He is not for us, Charles. He's Milch's." One more stamp to the face, until he snorted, coming over to me and taking my rifle from my hands.

"Sometimes, Carlisle, I wonder why you joined us at all. Where's the fun in waiting?"

His twisted smile pulled the corner of his mouth up as he walked to the mouth of the stairs to join our general. He got have way up before throwing it at my feet.

"Bring them up with you, Carlisle, Milch's waiting and so is the public." I nodded as he turned out of sight.

The little girl was still crying, her mother holding her close to her with her arm around her shoulder. They were the spitting image of each other; their eyes were exactly the same shade of green, their faces both heart shaped with thick dark ringlets spilling over their shoulders, the side pinned up delicately.

Putting my professional head into gear, I forced myself to march-walk over to the father on the floor.

"Get up, now!" His head shot up, our brown and blue eyes meeting for the first time. "You knew the consequences you will face."

He moved slowly, so grabbing him by the arm, I pulled him to his feet. "No time to doddle, Jew. You're getting your up commence." Maria stifled a sob as she clamped her hand over her mouth, their daughter was hid now, under her mother's arm.

"Kristina, don't look, darling. Look at me, only at me, understood?" Kristina's curls bounced slightly as she nodded.

"Don't leave me mummy!"

"I'm not going anywhere, baby."

Forcing the trio upstairs, and outside, we finally met the other family in question. Like earlier, they were on their knees outside their shop, their hands behind their head, their eyes searching for the source of the sniffling.

"Get down!" Milch made sure to force them to the floor himself; he had us with our rifles pointed and ready if we faced any resistance. A group began to gather around us, and gasps came from each direction.

"Keep it under control, Cullen!" I moved out of the group, moving the public back slightly.

"We are here today, to show..." Milch's voice was drowned out as I viewed my surroundings. It wasn't until I looked up to see crowds of people hanging out of the flat windows above, that I saw her.

She had curls, much like the Jewish mother and daughter had. Her eyes, again, were shockingly bright, emerald green. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had red rings around her eyes. She was young, very young, but appeared somehow beyond her years. Almost haggard, old, as if she'd seen enough to last her a life time.

"Cullen!" The rough voice broke me out of my day dream and I was snapped back into reality.

_How many people have I killed now?_

The thought swirled continuously around my mind, buzzing around like a fly, never going away.

"You know what you have to do." Charles smiled.

The girl I saw a minute ago shrunk back into the shadows as she caught my eye. She mouthed a silent "no" as I placed my hand on the trigger.

"Let this be a warning to everyone. We are your leaders now. Obey us."

"One...two...three!"

I pulled the trigger, closing my eyes as I did, and didn't open them until it was over and done with. The crack echoed off the walls, rebounding for what seemed only for my ears to hear.

"Like I said, this is a warning to those harbouring Jews." I opened my eyes, and before me lay the small girl that minutes ago was alive.

Innocent lives had been lost, and I could do nothing.

**A/N – I don't know if the German I used at the start is correct, but oh well. It's meant to say: "Out, out!" **

**A morbid chapter, I know, but it was harsh and cruel under Nazi control, so I hoped I did a good job in portraying that. **

**Please review! Thanks, Katie1995.**


	3. Dear Diary

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Dear Diary**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

_Dear Diary, 21/01/42_

_Today was much the same as every day. _

_The memories seem to be getting easier to live with. Never going away, but somehow dispersing to let me see clearer. The sun in my life is still rising, and I know it will be a long time before its rays are completely above me, but I'm as content as I could be in this maze of uncertainty._

_One image, however, stays in my head. No matter what I do, it won't go away._

_His blonde hair and striking blue eyes should have struck fear into my very core, but when I was so far away, and so hard to find to the outside world, how could it?_

_His eyes had bored into my own, his irises shining with something I couldn't quite put my finger on. His forehead was creased with what looked like disgust and...anger._

_His expression scared me, for how did I know what he thought when he caught me watching? Was he going to force himself into this small apartment and kill us all? Did he even know who I truly was?_

_I hoped with all my heart he did not know my true identity. My stupidity could end up killing us all._

_Anyway, I am sure he can't surely know what intentions I have in mind, my imagination is getting too carried away._

_But diary, it's time I leave you for another night._

_The sun is going down and our dinner is filling my small bedroom with the inviting scents of gravy and roast beef._

_Time our hard, yes. But if rations cause us to live the way we do, small joys like these shouldn't be wasted. I know that we personally, have been saving our voucher all week for a decent meal._

_Until next time, old friend._

_Esme._

I closed the small book, placing the pen in the draw in my bedside table. The light flickered above me as Justyna's voice floated into my room.

"Esme, come on, dinner's ready!" I chuckled softly as she kept badgering me to the dining table.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" I called back, a large grin splattered across my face as I pinned the sides of my hair up, my curls falling delicately down my thin shoulders. My hair in this style pronounced my cheek bones and eyes, which I knew from past memories, was something my father used to love seeing.

My father however, would no longer have the chance to see me.

"Esme!" With one last glace I was out in the kitchen, sitting at the table, Anna bustling busily around with different plates and cutlery in her hands.

"Where've you been, my dear?" Her smile to me was what signalled home.

"In my own thoughts," I replied, smiling back.

"Why am I not surprised, dear child?"

The plates were swiftly placed on the table in front of us. Steam came off the food and bread rolls were placed next to us.

"Thank you so much, Anna."

"It's my pleasure, Esme," she responded with a wave of her hand. "Now tuck in."

Justyna, let's say was less...dignified then the rest of us were. She was gone, her mouth full of food.

"Slow down, Justyna!"

She gulped hard, answering still with a mouth full of food.

"Why?"

"You'll give yourself heart burn," I laughed.

She stuck her tongue out at me at which Anna just shook her head, an amused look on her face and a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You'll never learn, will you?"

Justyna shook her head as she took another mouthful of food.

Proper food was a welcome feeling. To be full instead of constantly empty let me sleep well that night.

The only thing that kept me restless was the image of that one blonde, young soldier.

He kept weaving in and out of my dreams, his eyes piercing my soul. His gun was lifted towards the window in which I stood, his finger trembling on the rifle.

With one final order, he took aim and pulled it.

The bullet went in slow motion towards me, my body frozen.

And I always woke up that same way.

Just before it hit.

This night was just the same as the last.

My breathing was coming in irregular short breaths, my body covered in sweat and my limbs tangled in the sheets and duvets.

"Esme!"

Justyna's voice was panicked, her eyes wide as my blurred vision focused on her face.

"I'm fine," I replied, groggily.

She tutted, handing me the glass of water I brought up with me.

"Drink."

I took deep sips, much thirstier than I had comprehended.

"It's always the same," she whispered.

"Pardon?"

This time every morning, you wake up, sometimes screaming."

"Screaming?" I gaped. "Justyna, am I really that bad?"

Her arm draped around my shoulders as she pulled me into the side of her.

"You've been through a lot, Esme. I wouldn't be that surprised." She yawned, trying to cover her tiredness with her hand.

"You should go to sleep. I'm fine, really."

With one final squeeze, she went back to her bed.

"You always say that, Esme, always."

I laid back, her words repeating in my head, the soldier's face still freshly branded in my mind.

Soft snoring soon filled the silence of our small bedroom, a small comfort in difficult times.

A rowdy group of men, most likely Nazi soldiers were cheering and jeering up the road as the temperatures dropped even further.

There would surely be snow tomorrow. It would cover the places in which bodies once laid, and it would make execution spots pure once again as it covered the blood that ran into the drains.

My eyelids were closing slowly, but I fought to stay awake, scared to dream again for the horrifying images my dreaming involved.

"Who are you?" The words fell softly from my mouth as my eyelids finally closed and I succumbed to sleep.

**A/N – I thought that Esme would face nightmares after her first glance of Carlisle, especially in the acts he did.**

**If you liked this chapter, Please Review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	4. Father

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2, however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Father**

**Carlisle's P.O.V.**

Her Face flashed before me every time I closed my eyes. The devastation painted across her beautiful young face haunted my dreams every night. A shrill "no," echoing inside my head and causing me to wake up the same every night.

Panting, and covered in cold sweat.

I pulled my shirt roughly over my head, trying to forget the one woman who seemed to have changed me in less than one second.

"It's your job, Carlisle. What would your father say?"

My jacket followed my shirt, the scratchy material annoying my arms and neck, the grey trousers much the same.

I wrapped the swastika around my upper arm, securing it with a hook, the eagle-and-cockade badge on my upper arm, stood out like a sore thumb from the matching grey.

The black boots were of course, were last to follow, along with my rifle that had murdered so many in cold blood.

"Good morning, Cullen." Charles clapped me on the back, making me slip as I shaved. Blood poured down and over my chin.

"Morning, Charles," I replied, grimacing slightly at the company I had.

"Don't fear, Carlisle," he sneered. "You're not dying." He passed me a paper towel from the dispenser and I placed it over the slit.

"I am aware of the, Evenson." He gave me a hard stare, of which I returned.

If it was anyone who I hated the most, it was him.

"I heard you had a few days leave," he continued in a scrutinising tone. "When do you leave?"

I grabbed the towel off the rack, wiping my chin before answering.

"Tonight."

I walked past him, not making eye contact.

"Tonight?" He repeated in a disbelieving tone. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Safe?" I replied in a sarcastic time. "I'm not the one who has to be careful, Charles, unlike so many others."

He took his razor from the cupboard next to me, rubbing the shaving foam over his chin. "Okay then, sergeant. Have a good time."

I nodded my head as a goodbye, leaving through the small cabin door and outside into the white surroundings.

The snow crunched loudly under my boots, more large pieces falling thickly and plentifully before me. The flakes were being blown into my face by the wind coming down from the north, making me squint as I went.

"Cullen!" Friedrich's voice seemed extremely loud in the vast surroundings I was in.

"Sir." I saluted as he walked past me, standing, finally, in front of me.

"I heard you were on leave." I closed my eyes before answering. He was the one who gave me leave.

"Yes, sir."

"When will you be back?"

"In three days time sir, like I said when you agreed to this."

He grunted and I bit me tongue hard, just in case I had said something stupid.

"You're quite right, lad." I let a breath of relief out. "You'd better get going then. By the looks of it the trains won't be running later this evening, the weather's deteriorating rapidly. I think the last train leaves in an hour and a half."

I nodded, saluting again before carrying on towards my sleeping quarters.

I packed my bags quickly and without much fuss, taking the dagger from the front apartment in my bag and tucking it into my boot.

Milch was right. Just getting to the train station was tough enough. Our car became stuck on the ice, and once I did arrive, I had nearly missed the train out of Poland.

The apartment I was sat in was small in size but comfortable enough that I could rest. My eyelids were beginning to get heavy, despite my useless battle to stay awake. The steady tempo of the train gave me an odd sense of comfort, knowing that even in the high position I was in, I was most likely the most hated human being on this single train.

"Ticket!" The conductor threw me out of my trance like state. Doors slammed and opened as he neared ever closer to my compartment.

I rummaged around my pockets and bag, trying to suppress the yawns that threatened to overtake me.

"Here." The older man gave me a hard stare, his lines around his eyes crinkling.

"Thank you." He snatched the small piece of paper from in between my fingers, stamping a hole in it before handing it back. "Have a nice day."

He muttered under his breath, carrying on to the next door.

"No-one understands," I retorted automatically.

Settling back into the seat, I let myself fall into the land of dreams again. One girl, walking in and out images that flashed before me, yet I didn't know who she was.

The town house stood extremely proud in the street of other ruined houses. If it was any house that had survived, it had to be my childhood home.

Its windows were supported by tape that crossed the glass in the shape of an X. I guessed it would look the same in our enemy's country. Oh, we knew how to dish things out, but we didn't know one thing about taking what we gave. When the English began bombing us, it was pure shock, followed quickly by anger.

But we all felt that way.

Angry.

"Carlisle?" My mother's voice sounded closely from behind me. I jumped like a wounded dog.

"Mother," I breathed.

She took my bag in her hand, refusing when I made a start to take it back from her.

"So long," she whimpered, cupping my face with her spare hand. "So long without news, Carlisle."

I felt a tear slide down my cheek as she wiped it away.

"I'm sorry, mother."

She smiled absentmindedly.

"You look so old, son." I followed her into the house I used to call home, and into the front room. "So beyond your years," she carried on.

"Mother, I can't-

My voice broke as I finally let the weight of war pull me down. My spatial awareness seemed to go suddenly as I collapsed onto the arm chair next to the fireplace.

"I know you can't," she replied simply but sadly, sitting across from me. "I can see it in your eyes, Carlisle. You hold so much pain in those blue abysses."

"Father doesn't understand," I told her bitterly as she stroked my hand with her thumb.

"He won't listen," mother agreed.

"Conscripted and yet he believes I want to do this."

She sighed, tipping her head up slightly so she could peer out the window.

"He fought in World War One. He's set in the old ways, son. The British in his eyes won't stop until they've squashed our nation. I think that's the idea that scares him the most."

"So we resolve our problems by means of war?" I laughed harshly as she shook her head.

"The world has seen many wars, Carlisle."

"But not one like this," I cut in.

Silence suffocated us before I continued.

"Three months ago, I was ordered to shoot a family quite like ours." A lump began to form in my throat. "My god, the youngest was what, only eight? Her mother promised she'd be okay."

"We can't do anything."

"No-one can!" I threw my hands down, standing from the chair and walking wildly to the window. My breathing was heavy and laboured.

"This isn't your fault."

"Well it bloody well may be," I retorted again, placing a fist in the wall.

Silence adopted the room again before my mother placed a hand on my tense shoulder, talking calmly from beside me.

"You've come here to destroy my house further? My gosh, Carlisle, you're much better than that."

Her small hand found my fist, uncurling my fingers from my palm and rubbing the imprints that now were red on the inside of my hand.

"You're father will be home soon. Unwind, set your mind for the night ahead, and above all, rest."

"Joy," I muttered.

Her hand dropped down from my shoulder, and I saw her reflection in the window disappear into the kitchen.

She called out from the dim light. "Dinner will be ready by seven."

"Fine, mother."

"Please, behave for me. I can't handle your father's moods."

I nodded curtly, dragging my feet off up the stairs and up to my bedroom.

It was smaller than I remembered it to be.

Books from nearly three years ago were scattered randomly across my bed and floor. The bible my father gave me was placed on my bedside table next to the small reading lamp.

Dust covered everything, even if I had been back once or twice before. Posters littered my walls, the pictures and writing faded, and the colours were dull.

"Carlisle." His voice made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge and a shiver to run up my spine.

"Father." My voice was distant as I kept my eyes traced on the wall opposite me, while I dropped my army bag to the floor.

His rich timbre voice was hostile as he spoke. It didn't seem once that he cared I was home.

"When did you arrive?"

I continued to stare down the wall, unbuttoning the jacket that hung heavily from my frame.

"Around five, father." He grunted in what sounded almost like approval.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Don't be late."

And as he walked out again, not once did he enquire after my well being.

I ignored his heavy footfalls down the stairs, concentrating only on my heavy breathing and mouth watering smells coming in through my bedroom from the kitchen.

I quickly threw an evening suit over my thin body, hastily making my way down the stairs to join my parents in the dining room.

My Mother's heart shaped face was the first things I saw. Her smile was broad and her eyes sparkled. My father who looked so much like me, stood next to her, his mouth in a thin, firm line. I was thankful that I had inherited my mother's deep blue eyes and no his dull grey tunnels.

"I know, rationing is causing food shortages everywhere, but you're only home for three days. I guessed I would make the best of it."

"It looks amazing, mother."

I took my seat, tucking in as soon as I had reached the chair. My father usually said grace before meals, but today, he and I weren't on good terms.

Ever since I had turned fifteen, we had not been on good terms.

He had very harsh contrasting beliefs to me, and I did not care for his disgusting views on the world. He, of course, did not care what I had to say tonight.

"So, Carlisle," he began, slicing a potato as he did. "How's army life going?"

I gulped, taking a sip of water before I spoke.

"It's going very well, father." I didn't dare make eye contact with him. I knew what his expression would be.

"I hope you're getting the vermin off our streets. We're slowly getting to become the proud nation we used to be thanks to your work."

My Mother winced next to me, her knife falling to the floor. She covered it as a cough, but I knew it was out of disgust.

Mother was a very proud, loyal person. My father made sure to let her know when she was "in the wrong."

He, like most fascist supporters, had broken up my Mother's friendship with her Jewish friend, Ola. My Father, instead of leaving her alone, alerted soldiers to her presence and she was taken away. To which concentration camp, it was not clear.

"Yes, Father," I responded again, unfeeling.

He snorted as I continued to stare at my plate. My arms moving robotically as I ate.

"You should be proud of yourself. Continuing in my footsteps makes me very proud of you, son.

I almost choked on my meat as I tried to swallow it. My Mother's foot knocked me in the shin as she gave me a warning glance out of the corner of her eye.

"I am, father." I looked up fleetingly, our eyes locking for a second before I look back down again.

His mouth was curved into a smile and my face reflected off his eyes.

And that was how the rest of the evening was spent, Father asking me ridiculous questions, embarrassing me at every opportunity he could get, and me responding like a programmed clone.

It was in that moment I had realised why I had been eager to get away from home, to get away from the one person that caused me to be so unhappy.

I had found a sort of release in the army, but now I knew that it wasn't me who had made that choice for me.

I had been so desperate to appease him I had lost myself. And now, for the first time in three years, I'd truly seen the monster within.

**A/N – Trying to pass exams... causes writing malfunctions!**

**Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know, in real life, Carlisle's Mother is dead, but I just felt as though she should be in the story, sort of as a Ying and Yang balance.**

**If you enjoyed it, please review! Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	5. Help

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Help**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

The weather was painstakingly cold today. The windows had a fine layer of frost over them as they looked onto the snow blanketed streets below.

In the small bedroom I shared, we only had three blankets each to keep ourselves warm. The main fire was in the living room, still small in size, but yet barely ever used due to the fact the fuel was being rationed as well.

I had the job of collecting food from our neighbours that thankfully had agreed to helping Anna in her fight to keep Justyna and me alive.

"Come _on _Esme!" Anna's voice floated into the small room as I hastily wrapped my scarf around my neck.

"I'm going!"

My boots were next to follow as I literally heaved them on, they were that heavy.

Without a second glance at my appearance, I ran out the door and down the steep, narrow steps into the secure passageway that allowed us to move in and out of the house. There was a small slit in the door, covered by a metal sheet that we could draw back to peer out of.

And it may sound stupid, but that small window type thing was very useful to us. It had prevented us from getting caught multiple times. Today was no exception.

I waited with bated breath, listening to the clicks of the officers' boots go past the small door and fade into the distance before I squeezed silently out of the gap I had allowed myself.

I wasted no time on getting to our friend's house, even if I slipped three times on the way. I knew tomorrow that I'd have some large bruises due to my bad footing, but I was used to that by now. Growing up in Poland meant we were adapted to harsh weather like this.

"Rosalie!"

I half whispered, half shouted through the door. When there was no answer, I resorted to pounding it.

"Ros-

"Esme, what the hell?" Her voice popped from behind me, making me jump.

"Rosalie," I sighed, clutching my heart in a playing sort of way. "Where were you?"

"Getting our food," she retorted while shaking her head, a smile painted on her face. "I can see your patience has worn off through the months."

She put the key in the lock, turning it so a small click sounded. She didn't have to invite me in; after all, we were practically sisters.

"Well, considering I've been cramped into a small flat for nearly two years now, I think it's understandable why my patience has worn off."

She chuckled lightly again before continuing.

"And I figure Anna sent you here for food?"

"How did you know?" Rosalie smacked my arm and I laughed.

It felt so good when I was with her. There was no fear, no awkward moments, just care free banter and laughter. Her playful spirit was the only thing that kept me sane sometimes.

"Here you go."

Her hands worked quick as she organised her food and our food into separate baskets. She handed me the bundle, stopping me as I went to go and offering me a seat.

"Come on, you can surely stay for a couple of hours?" Her voice was hopeful, but my response crushed her optimism.

"Unfortunately not, Rose. I can stay for a while, but not hours, however much I wish to."

She huffed in annoyance, causing a smile to curve my lips.

"Gosh, I go shopping for you, queue in a bloody bread line for hours on end, and then you say you can only stay for a _while? _Gee, thanks, Esme."

I stuck my tongue out at her. Her Golden locks were pinned up into a loose bun, strands falling into her face.

"You know I would love to stay longer, but you know Anna; she panics!

Rosalie rolled her eyes before sitting down on the kitchen table opposite me.

"So Esme, how have you been?"

I sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"The usual."

"Always the sadistic one, aren't you?"

"Hilarious, Rosalie, absolutely hilarious."

"My point is proven."

"Well, Justyna's fine, and so is Anna. We're finding it hard this winter, but we're okay I guess."

"I guess," she repeated sarcastically.

"And yourself?"

She grinned, her white teeth gleaming.

"I met a man."

I gasped, but it was in happiness.

"Really?" She nodded. "Oh, Rosalie, I'm so happy for you!"

I threw my arms around her which resulted in us happy dancing. She and I were jumping round in a small circle before we calmed down enough to begin talking coherently to each other.

"What's his name, where did you meet, how old is he, how, when?"

"Esme, stop!"

My lips smacked shut and she giggled like a school girl.

"He was hit by an army truck in the street as I was walking home a couple of months ago. I got him to a hospital. He's huge, ridiculously huge, but I did it. When I went to go the morning he became conscious again, he asked me to stay with him."

"Awww," I cued.

"I know," she replied, her cheeks a rosy pink as she blushed. "So I stayed with him, and I guess I didn't go," she paused, thoughtfully. "Well, I _couldn't _go!"

"That's so sweet!" Rosalie's curls bounced as she nodded.

"And his name's Emmett. Emmett McCarty."

"Tell me what he looks like!" I was literally bouncing in my seat.

"He's tall, like I said, six ft, 5 inches. He's got a black, curly mop of hair and his smile is just captivating. Really, Esme, he's much like a teddy bear."

"He sounds perfect for you, much better than that Royce you dated."

Her smile disappeared and the colour drained from her face.

"Definitely."

The cuckoo clock startled me from our conversation. My stomach dropped as I saw the time; 1pm.

"Oh my gosh, look at the time!"

"What?" Rosalie exclaimed.

"I've been here for nearly an hour and a half! Anna will be livid!"

I gathered the basket in one hand, folding my coat over the other arm.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie, but I have to go."

"I understand. Give Anna and Justyna my love will you?"

My hand rested on the door as I nodded.

"Thank you again, Rosalie."

"You're welcome," she replied simply, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Now go!"

I pulled the door open in a hurry, getting halfway down the steps before stopping and turning back round.

"Oh, and Rosalie?" She appeared at the top of the steps.

"Yes?"

"Congratulations!"

Rolling her eyes, she said "thank you" again, before I carried on towards the alleyway and back to our flat.

As if carrying a basket wasn't hard enough on the ice, my hair band broke, causing my curls to fall into my face and fall more times than I dare admit to.

It wasn't until I got to the junction of the alleyway I needed to go down, I heard the crunching of snow behind me.

I stopped dead, my breathing becoming erratic.

Someone was following me.

It wasn't an assumption, it was a fact.

"You, stop." I dropped the basket of supplies on the floor in shock at the man's voice. "Turn around."

I closed my eyes and turned around slowly, a tear running down my cheek and freezing quickly from the cold temperatures.

_No, no, no! It's not supposed to be like this!"_

"Look at me."

I hiccupped as I tried not to sob. This man was going to shoot me, and Anna and Justyna would never see me again. I would never get home, and my body would be dumped into a mass grave or left to rot.

I tore my gaze from the white sheet below my feet to the soldier who stood before me.

"You are aware it is curfew?"

My gasp seemed like a bomb in the tension.

How could I forget?

I stared at the Nazi soldier, shaking noticeably now as he carried on in his terrible Polish accent.

"I- it's just...I mean."

"Documents?"

That was it, I was dead.

I pulled the documents from my pocket, passing it to the soldier with an uncontrollable hand.

The Star of David was stamped in the corner, my name next to it with my date of birth and relatives. The word "Jude" was stamped diagonally across the whole document.

"Jew." The word was like a punch to my stomach as he said it in his own language.

I flinched and it was noticed to my absolute horror.

"What are you going to do to me?"

It was a squeaked question, but he stared intently at me, not replying, but instead stuffing the papers back into my hand.

"Please!" I begged. "Don't kill me! I have a family to go home to, people that care about me. I can't go like this, please!" My voice broke and tears streamed down my face.

"Esme, isn't it?"

I fell to my knees, nodding as I placed my head in my hands. "Yes," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion.

"You knew the consequences you would face. You should be prepared for the punishments."

"No, please, I know, but I'm only 25, please! You've already killed my family, please, let me go!" I was being a coward kneeling before someone as sadistic as him.

"Get up, now!"

I wasn't fast enough, and he grabbed me by the arms, heaving me to my feet, my skirt dusted with snow.

"Put your arms behind your head!"

I gulped as I watched the blonde soldier's hand twitch towards his rifle.

"Now turn around." My eyes closed as I waited for the shot that would kill me.

The crack that sounded didn't hurt me. Instead I was still where I was, my hands still behind my head.

Was I dead? Was heaven just a parallel universe to what I was used to?

"Esme," his voice stunned me as I jumped again.

"I'm not dead?" The soldier barked a bitter laugh and I looked behind me to see his rifle lying on the floor. "I don't understand..."

Instead of picking his rifle back up and ending it all, he thrust the basket I got off Rosalie into my hand.

"Go!" He snarled in a tone of panic.

I couldn't though. This man had spared me. This ruthless Nazi soldier had spared _me._

"Go!" He repeated in a malicious tone.

"But..."

"I've committed enough murders in my lifetime, Esme. Just...go!"

I scrambled back to my feet, looking long and hard into the soldier's eyes.

And in that moment, I knew who he was.

He was the soldier that plagued my dreams, the soldier whose eyes seemed to map out the story of his life.

He was the soldier that had killed my family.

He was the soldier that spared my life.

**A/N – I really hope this chapter works! I'm not too sure, what do you think?**

**If you enjoyed it, please review! Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	6. Second Glance

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Second Glance**

**Carlisle's P.O.V.**

I watched the young woman run for her life down the street. It was as if she thought I would pick the gun up and shoot her as she walked away from me.

I couldn't blame her.

I couldn't blame anyone from hating me, especially this Esme. Like she said, I had killed her family.

A shiver ran up my spine and a tear fell down my cheek. I was German, my father was in desperate need to find something he could be proud for me doing, and still, things like now I couldn't do. I couldn't do them because no matter what everyone else believed in, I didn't. I didn't understand what Hitler had planned for this country, and the army looked so inviting, but now, it makes me tired. Just the thought of my job is enough to create bile in my mouth.

I breathed out deeply, determined not to cry in public view. The rifle I held just mere minutes ago, shined with a layer of frost as snow began to cover it.

The bitterness of the day began to nip at my cheeks as I picked it up, pulling away quickly to get away as far as I could go from this place.

Before I could make my escape however, I tripped awkwardly over a camouflaged object. Sighing heavily again, I let my foot loose from the wool object. I picked it up absent minded with no idea what I thought I would do with it.

It wasn't until I shook the wool free of snow that I realised it was a scarf.

I knew I had seen it before, but all I got were incoherent images flashing before my eyes. The scarf hanged limply from my hands as I turned it around, trying to remember. It wasn't until a flash of yellow contrasted against the blue I finally realised who it belonged to.

_Property of Esme Platt._

A small gasp of surprise left my mouth as I realised just how she had lost it, begging at my feet to not kill her.

"Esme," I whispered again.

She was so, so scared. So alone, so frightened of one man like myself, and all I wanted to do was tell her to trust me. How could she though? When a man like myself had killed her whole family, how could she trust me?

I ran my spare hand over my face, and through my hair.

I could prove to her now that I wasn't what she believed me to be. Deep down, I wasn't the monster, the maniac she had silently labelled me as.

I knew it was a long shot, but an apology, or something equivalent had to mean something. It would at least, make me feel justified, although I knew it would never justify me.

The flakes began to lessen, and the footsteps present just minutes ago were covered again in a frothy layer of fresh snow.

I took a deep breath, letting the cold wind hit the back of my throat, before gulping and walking aimlessly in the direction she had scurried away in.

The small lanes seemed to double in length and number as I tried to find the young woman.

I stopped in frustration at a path junction, my heavy breathing the only sound in the lonely dark street. I was getting nowhere in this world that I barely knew.

"Where are you?"

The only thing that answered my question was the sound of sniffling and muffled cries.

My breath caught in my throat, and I was scared to move any further. My rifle which was tied to my back fell to the floor as I let it loose. My mind had already told me unknowingly who it would most likely be. I wouldn't scare her again.

"Esme?" My voice sounded eerie as it echoed off the stone walls.

My suspicions were confirmed when a feeble voice answered my question.

"G-go a-away!"

I allowed my feet to take me round the last corner that separated me from her. The snow crunched loudly under my feet now, and my heart was pounding loudly in my chest. The woman I sought after was curled up and a small brick like wall. Her knees were under her chin, her hair was a mess, and the papers she had been forced to give me were scattered over the floor. Her head was bowed, but the fact that her hand kept coming up to wipe her cheeks told me she was crying.

Warily, I took another step forwards, my breathing ceased as I held my breath in anticipation. The next step I took was equally as slow as the first, the smashed glass under my feet giving me away.

Esme's head shot up and her eyes went wide.

"You!" It wasn't a question, but an accusation.

"I-

But she was already backing away from me. She couldn't go very far when she was in a dead end alleyway. Her hair span wildly around as she looked either side of her for an escape route, when she realised there was nowhere to go, she kept her eyes on me.

My every movement was being watched by the young woman. Tears began to fall and freeze to her cheeks again. Her breath was coming in short quick pants, obvious to the eyes thanks to the ever freezing weather.

"If you've come to finish the job off, just do it now, I beg you, before I change my mind."

I dropped my head, the guilt and shame washing over me. The pause seemed like years before I gained enough courage to look up again.

"I'm not here to kill you."

Her whole body flinched at the word kill. I saw the pain flitter across her face before she composed herself again.

I put my arms up in surrender. "I come unarmed."

Her eyes searched my figure.

"Turn around." I obeyed, turning around slowly so she could see I had nothing that would harm her.

Finally, when I got back to my original place, she took a step towards me. I could see the hesitance in her footing, but she pushed herself further anyway.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want nothing from you; however, I have something you may want back."

She snorted in disapproval before responding. "Don't tell me, you've managed to resurrect my family?"

The sarcasm in her words was masked with pain.

"No," I replied, my voice a little higher than normal.

"What a surprise. So tell me, Nazi. What can a murderer like you give me?"

I breathed out slowly before removing her scarf from my pocket. Her facial expression did not change, yet her stance tensed as she watched me intently.

"You dropped it." In any other circumstances, it would have been humorous; the tension however, was just about at breaking point.

She stalked up to me, our eyes locked as she snatched the scarf from my unprepared hand.

"Why don't you kill me?" She whispered as she pulled away.

"Because I've committed enough murders."

Her curls bounced gently as she nodded curtly. Without another world she turned and walked abruptly away from me, her footsteps stopping suddenly in the snow as she swung around to look at me again.

"You're different from the others."

And as if nothing had been said, she continued through a small door and out of sight.

I felt almost bare as she disappeared. This woman who I had barely known for half an hour just stripped me to the bone.

No-one else had figured me out; no-one had come close enough, except maybe Charles, to revealing my real feelings.

No-one, but Esme.

**A/N – This chapter was quite hard for me to write. All I can hope is that you think it's okay! **

**If you enjoyed this, Please Review! Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	7. He's Different

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**He's Different**

**Esme's P.O.V**

My bedroom seemed even smaller as I paced its length. My head was spinning and there was a twisting sort of pain in my chest. His face, his words and above all, his eyes, like always, stuck in my mind.

He had had two chances to kill me, two clear chances of ending me, and no-one would've had taken a blind eye to wear I would have gone.

He had two chances two kill me, and yet, he didn't.

This man angered me. Why didn't he just do his job? Why, when he had killed so many before me hesitate on doing the same to me?

"Esme, what's the matter?"

I spun round on my heel at Justyna's sudden intrusion.

"Nothing, I'm just..."

"Agitated?" She finished, raising her eyebrows.

I nodded, looking past her into the hall and back at Justyna again. Her foot was tapping on the wooden floor boards of our room and her arms were crossed against her chest.

"What happened?"

I could see the many questions in her eyes.

"I was caught," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her gasp matched her facial expression. "Caught," she stuttered. "Caught as in caught by a soldier?"

I nodded again and her face fell.

"But he let you go," she commented, her statement obvious.

"He did," I replied while masking my emotion in my voice, my face still expressionless. "Twice."

"Twice," she choked out, nearly tripping as she walked over to stand before me. "Why?"

"Geez, Justyna, thanks for the "I'm so glad he saved your life" part."

"I'm sorry, it's just so..."

"Shocking?" I finished bitterly, crossing my own arms over my chest. "Indeed, it was. He said something along the lines of committing enough murders in one life time. He did, however, have me on my knees, begging at his feet. Of course I regret that now. He did not deserve my unheard words."

"Unheard words?" Justyna shot back, her voice cracking slightly. "He must have heard them all right."

"Heard them, no, his eyes seemed to be flickering with some undecided answer. I think it was his conscience, not my words."

"But still..."

"We will never know."

There was a prolonged silence in which we were lost in our own thoughts.

"But then," I continued, startling Justyna from her day dreaming, "he found me again."

"A-again."

I turned from her, placing my hands on the windowpane, watching the daylight fade slowly.

"Yes, but this time he was unarmed."

"Unarmed?" Her question made a soft chuckle fall from my lips.

"I've just said so, haven't I?"

"I know, but it's just so...surprising."

My fingers clawed the already peeling paint as I balled my hands into fists.

"Strange, yes, but still, I couldn't trust him. After all, he was the one that was ordered to murder my relatives."

"Oh."

I dropped my head, running a hand over my face. "But I don't know how to feel. He gave me a chance to run, and I did, of course, but then he followed me not to kill me, no, but to simply give me back a belonging."

"Which was?"

"A scarf." The simple statement had been slightly humorous, but neither of us had the heart to laugh discussing a near death situation. "The anger I felt was brought out on him, like anyone would expect. The soldier however seemed to take it to heart. I could see the flash of pain in his eyes, and I knew he was different. I can't tell why I would feel that way."

I sighed, letting the events of the day sink in to my overtired brain.

"Who knew that a simple trip to collect supplies would turn into such an eventful day?"

"I don't know, Esme. I mean, at least he didn't kill you."

"Mmm, and that makes me feel so much better."

"Are you going to tell, Anna?"

"No, it's too much stress on her. She's trying her best already to keep our necks above water."

Justyna sighed, placing a hand on her hip before touching my shoulder. "I understand."

"Thank you, Justyna."

She smiled, albeit slightly distracted before leaving the room and me to my own thoughts again.

"Who was he?"

The fact he knew my name and I didn't know his, set me reeling. What happened of he _did _change his mind? Not only would he know precisely who he would be looking for, but he also knew where I lived, not only jeopardising me, but Justyna and Anna as well.

"Esme, dear, you haven't been down in hours. Are you feeling okay?" I jumped at Anna's voice.

"Yes, really, I am."

"You just seemed distracted."

I turned to face her crinkled, lined face, a soft smile resting on my lips. "Don't go worrying about me."

She walked up to me, placing her hands either side of my face. "You poor girl," she whispered. "Your eyes hold pain no-one should have at your age, it's beyond me to know why war should affect such people like you."

I closed my eyes to stop getting so emotional.

"I just don't want you prosecuted because of me."

Her thumb stroked my cheek and she smiled sadly.

"In the end, Esme, the only person who can prosecute me is, God."

Her hands fell to her sides and she cleared her throat. "Anyway, I enjoy looking out for you two. It makes me feel useful."

"Useful," I snorted. "Anna, you're our saviour."

She blushed, noticeably.

"And it's true; I don't care what you say."

She took it in her stride however, grasping my hand and leading me down the stairs."

"Come on, those potatoes won't peal themselves."

Her smile was warming, giving me the only feeling that could make a person in denial feel better.

**A/N – A short chapter, but I'm ill and my throat just gets me down. :(**

**Anyways, I know I could do better, but I hope you enjoyed it! Please Review!  
>Thanks, Katie1995 :)<strong>


	8. When Worlds Fall Apart

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**When the world falls apart.**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

The most dreadful sound in the world was the sound of that never ending siren. The haunting noise continuously haunting you wherever you went, teasing you in the fact it could sound at any time. Tonight was its cruel return.

"Justyna, Justyna!" The screeching of the siren continued loudly in my ears as I shook her desperately.

"Esme, Justyna!" Anna's voice blasted up the stairs.

"Get. Up. Justyna!"

The woman who was now my sister fumbled before the siren struck the fear into her like it did everyone else.

"I can't believe I didn't realise!" She gasped.

"It doesn't matter, just get up, we need to get down to the basement."

Without any other words, Justyna threw herself out of bed, taking my hand as we ran down the stairs. Our night gowns fluttered, and our legs were revealed to the biting winds. Our faces were masks of panic despite the amount of times we had done this. The fact that it could be you at any moment sent shivers up and down my spine.

Our feet had just touched the first floor when the first bomb shattered everything around us. The windows, although taped, rattled violently in their support. The purring of the planes' engines grew steadily worse and they gradually came forwards. Luckily, it was not us who were hit.

"We're not going to make it!"

Justyna's whispers were hurried, but I squeezed her hand, pulling her on. "We've been through this before," I comforted.

Stumbling down another stair case, we finally met Anna, who of course, ushered us hurriedly into the cold cellar.

Panting filled the beats of silence, accompanied by the planes overhead.

"That's the second time now, girls."

And although we were being admonished, the relief shining in her eyes was evident. Even more so when she took us into her arms.

"You don't know how worried I get."

Just as the words left her mouth another bomb shattered, the huge blast dangerously close to the flat.

Justyna was having a panic attack in my arms. Her breathing came in short intervals and she squeaked every time a new bomb exploded. I understood where her root of fear stemmed from however. Justyna was the only survivor of her family when a bomb fell near her house. It wasn't the bomb physically, but the blast it had created.

"We're going to be alright, baby."

Crying, she shook her head. "That's what they said," she whispered.

Holding her closer, I listened in the safety of our basement, the planes and bombs gradually crawled a slow crescendo before becoming fortississimo, crawling to a decrescendo and finally piano as they disappeared over the horizon.

We were safe yet again, but for how long I was not sure.

**~ XoX ~**

**Carlisle's P.O.V.**

Bombs littered the horizon. Our aircraft were making a clean job of Krakow tonight. Oranges glowed against the silhouette of the city as I watched it burn from my assigned base.

Sighing and turning my gaze to the ceiling, I watched as the glow in my room died into nothingness and night turned into day. No matter how hard I had tried to sleep I couldn't, and it showed, badly.

Accepting defeat, I shifted myself into a sitting position, throwing the duvet from my body and placing my bare feet on the cold wooden floor.

My chin was layered with a thin but fine layer of stubble meaning only one thing.

This morning I would have to face Charles. Ever since the day I had met Esme, I had tried to avoid him, and it was working, even if I was acting slightly out of character.

Dressing in record time, I made my way over to the washing cabinets. Charles usually was up a good half hour after me which made me feel slightly better. However, there was still that chance I would be stuck with him.

Grabbing my razor quickly I pulled my snow boots on, jogging over to the wash cabinets to shave.

"Carlisle, what a surprise."

My blood ran cold as I saw Charles stood over one of the sinks. A white towel was tied around his waist and he had a razor held steadily in his hand.

"Charles?" My voice seemed unnaturally high as I addressed him. "What are you doing here?"

Placing my hand towel down, I continued to the sink behind him.

"Didn't you hear? Milch changes our shifts. I'm now working on the outskirts of town, where you were patrolling last week, remember?"

My razor nearly slipped as the shock sank in.

"Changed our shifts? But why?"

"So you can be in the central part of town. You know Milch wants us to search an old warehouse."

"Warehouse? What an earth would he want to do there?"

Charles smiled maliciously behind me in the mirror. "He needs someone strategic. He believes there are spies hiding out there.

"Spies?" The idea made me laugh. Milch was paranoid, I knew that much.

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

Clearing my throat, I answered with a smile. "Of course. Well then, I'm finished, I'll see you this evening. Good day, Evenson."

I bowed my head and walked back to my sleeping quarters, dressing as quickly as I could and then making my way to Milch's office, knocking impatiently on the wooden door.

"Cullen!"

Milch's rough voice cut through the air like a bullet from behind me and I turned around quickly, saluting at my general.

"What are you doing here?"

He pulled a cigarette out of his front pocket, lighting it with a match before taking a long drag and breathing billows of smoke back out.

"I need to talk to you," I replied, my voice strong like his.

"I assume Charles has told you then."

I nodded and he sighed, digging around in his side pocket for his keys.

"You better come in then."

He led me into his office, offering the spare chair opposite him. I took it of course. I knew better then to anger him.

"I only want to know why you've assigned me to this task, Sir. You above all know I am no hunter. I am a follower, a loyal person who will do what is asked of me. I am, however, a poor spy and would be caught all too soon. Charles is much better than I am."

"I see, Cullen. Is there any other reason you would like to carry on in your current position?"

My mouth went dry and fear started to seep into my body. Did he know about Esme?

"No, Sir," I lied smoothly.

He nodded, a slight smirk was spread across his face. "Very well then, Cullen. Just tell Charles to come here will you. I can tell you now he won't be impressed."

"Thank you, Sir."

I saluted again and let myself out, looking across the yard to where Charles stood with his colleague, Royce King.

"Charles," I called, my throat straining against the cold air.

"Carlisle?" Royce laughed, but I kept myself going.

"I need to talk to you."

Charles looked at Royce before looking back at me. "About what?"

"Milch's changed our shifts again," I replied, my voice now slightly uneven.

"You went and changed them, didn't you, Cullen?" I didn't deny or own up to it. I simply just looked him in the eye, trying to be as civil as I could.

"He has just informed me, Evenson. Now, unless you would like to be late, your brigade is leaving. I would follow on if I were you."

His beady eyes were staring at me hard, his jaw jumping in unvoiced anger. Keeping his eyes locked with mine he erected himself slowly, walking over to join the jeeps that were currently heading out of base.

"Of course, Cullen," he mocked. "I don't want to be late."

Charles shoved past me and my rifle fell to the floor.

"He won't like that," Royce began in the same mocking tone.

"I am aware, King. You're commentary is not needed."

He spat at my feet. "Watch your back, Cullen. It's time you decided whose side you're on."

Turning away, I walked over to my assigned jeep, not once looking back towards the other gate.

"Come on men we haven't got all day," Announced Friedrich Frankfurter, our commander for today.

Obeying I jumped into the back with the other men, their hand in mine as they helped pull me up with them.

"You know where you are assigned to," continued Frankfurter. "Just make sure you do a bloody good job. You know Milch, he only likes the best."

My stomach felt queasy, yet it wasn't for me. It was however, for someone much more important than I. Esme.

**~ XoXo ~**

Continuing my usual path through the small village, I allowed myself to absentmindedly wander further than I would usually allow myself.

"Esme."

The bucket I had been carrying dropped at my feet as the man's voice I had dreaded to hear.

"Look at me, please."

My heart thudded dangerously loud in my chest as I allowed myself to meet the soldier I had previously sworn I would avoid.

"What do you want?" I hissed, throwing my arms to my side.

"I want nothing."

I scoffed at his seemingly innocent appearance. It was perhaps the uniform and rifle he held in his hands that made me just so jumpy.

"Of course not," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Look," he shot back, his voice dangerously low. "I wasn't meant to be here today, Esme. A man named Charles Evenson was to take my place. If he had, you would be dead. Just be careful, Esme. I don't know if I'm always going to be here, you may be dead in two days time."

It was hard to digest but I kept my mask on. "Why are you telling me this, Soldier?"

"Because I'm not meant to be in the place I have ended up in." He went to walk away, but I held him back with a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Tell me one thing," I whispered, looking around to see if I was safe. "What's your name?"

He tilted his head down to look at me, our eyes connecting. "Carlisle."

And as quickly as he came, he went again.

**A/N – I really hope you enjoyed this. It was quite hard to write.**

**Anyways, Please Review! They make my day! Katie 1995 :)**


	9. In Love

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or **_**Twilight **_**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**In Love**

**Carlisle's P.O.V.**

I suppressed the urge to turn around. This woman, this one woman was doing me no good. No good what so ever.

"No, no!" Her voice drifted through the air and she caught my arm, her breaths short as she tried to regain her breath.

"Let me go, Esme." She tugged me back further, but I kept my gaze forwards.

"It's not fair!" She shouted, her voice now carrying slightly. "You can't just walk away from me! I don't understand!"

I stopped, the front of my boots digging into the snow and ice beneath me. "You don't need to understand. All you need to know is that I'm trying to keep you safe, trying to keep you alive!"

"But why?" Esme's voice was strained against her emotions. "I mean look at you!"

Finally I allowed myself to turn around to face her wide eyes. "I am aware of who and what I am. Believe it or not, I do not need reminding."

"Hilarious," she replied, dryly.

I managed a bitter smile as I looked into her beautiful green eyes. They were sparkling with questions and I didn't want to get involved any further, but she captivated me.

"Look," I stepped back into the shadows, holding my hand out to my surprise. "I won't hurt you."

She stared intently at me before allowing herself to breathe out, and take my hand. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Because you want the truth?" I replied gently.

Esme snatched her hand from mine, throwing her arm down to her side.

"How dare you!" She seethed, her teeth bared. "You ask me if I want to hear the truth? You, out of all people? The truth from you will be lie after lie!" Her words stung.

"I'm not a bad person, Esme," I began, ending prematurely when she cut over me.

"Not a bad person? You murdered my family in cold blood, Carlisle!" And that was the first time she'd said my name. Realising her mistake, she covered her mouth with her hand, only to continue in a whisper. "No-one would be in the right mind to trust you!"

"But you do," I countered without thinking.

I watched as she blinked in shock, looking around herself before pushing me further into the darkness.

"Look, I know you're different, there's just...something about you," she retorted in hushed whispers, the Star of David stitched onto her coat now even more pronounced as I realised the situation I was working my way into.

"Esme, listen to me," I continued urgently. "If someone knows I have been doing this, they will replace me, exchange me. If it comes to the worse, they may kill me."

The similarities were emerging now. We were both, if not careful, risking our lives.

"And they will do the same to me, Soldier."

"I have a name!" I exclaimed in slight anger.

Esme smirked as she watched my anger. "And I am a person. Maybe you should inform your colleagues about that."

"I didn't start this war," I defended, lowly.

"No, you just decided to carry on the pain. Well, I can tell you now, you're doing a very good job of it."

Dropping my head I sighed, rubbing my tired eyes. "I've heard those insults enough times, Esme."

"Well once more can't hurt. It's not as if I have propaganda against you is it?"

"Please, all I can say is that I'm sorry," I finished, weakly.

"Sorry, Carlisle, isn't always enough."

She turned her back on me and I stopped her again. "Let me make it up to you."

"How?" Pressure began building under her scrutinising stare and I stared at my feet instead.

"I'll make you a promise." Those green eyes connected quickly with mine again, but she stepped back.

"I c-can't do this." Grabbing her arm, I forgot she was meant to be my enemy. "Let me go," she warned, her eyes flashing.

"Please, let me make you this one promise," I repeated, desperately.

Sighing, Esme looked back over her shoulder before studying my face carefully.

"What's a promise to you?"

Gulping I measured my options before pulling her closer so that the space previously kept between us was now diminished.

"Esme, I don't want you to get hurt," I breathed into her ear.

"And my family?" She shot back just as quietly. "Justyna and Anna?" She wasn't alone?

"There's more of you?" I spluttered.

Nodding, she quickly carried on. "I'm telling you this out of trust, Soldier. If you betray me, then not only will I die, but they will too. You see, Justyna is a Jew like me, but Anna, Anna's just any other citizen. She is not Jewish, she is German, but she's doing this from the bottom of her heart. If they both die it will because of me, trusting someone as vile as you." When Esme ended, her voice was barely audible and tears were shining in her eyes. Clearing her throat, she removed her arm form my grip.

"I promise I'll look after you and your family." Captured by her surprised green eyes, I pushed on. "But what I have to do to help you may not always be nice." Digesting my own words, I felt a trickle of liquid fall down my cheek until it got to the corner of my mouth. Realising it was a tear, I went to wipe it away, Esme, however, completely by surprise, brushed it away with her thumb.

"If you hate it so, why do you do it?"

"Because I have no other choice, Esme."

She laughed hoarsely. "Look at us," she commented as if talking about the weather and not at a Nazi soldier, "two enemies crying in a shadowed alleyway. What is the world coming to?"

Smiling at her I inhaled the cold air. "Peace, I hope," I replied fairly optimistic.

"One day, yes, but not for a while I don't think." And although what she said was true, she still held a slight smile on her lips. It was slight, yes, but it was there.

"I guess you have to go," I commented, watching the sun as it disappeared behind the clouds again.

Sighing, she followed my gaze. "I do." And her voice held a tint of sadness which made my heart leap.

"Please?" I offered her my hand by impulse.

I watched as her curls spill over her shoulders as she shook her head, but took my shaking hand.

"I trust you," she said, looking towards the crossroads at the top of the road. "I don't know why, but I do. All I ask is that you don't betray my trust."

Tightening my hands around Esme's, we began a slow walk to the top of the road, slipping now and then from the snow underfoot, giggling like schoolchildren.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Esme stated as we stopped, finally.

"I never break my promises," I whispered, kissing her hand before letting it go, missing the soft touch her skin offered.

"I'll keep you on that promise," Esme replied instantly without missing a beat. "Goodbye, Soldier," I went to talk, but she placed a finger over my lips, "goodbye, Carlisle"

And it was like Christmas came early as she flashed me one more soft smile.

"Goodbye, Esme."

Watching her walk away, my heart sank. Esme was the most beautiful but difficult woman I had ever met. However, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her."

**A/N – Don't know if he's fallen in love too quickly?**

**Anways, I loved writing this chapter, and hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Please Review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	10. Out of my Hands

**A/N – I do not own the characters in or **_**Twilight **_**in any way. All rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.**

**The theme of WW2 however, is my idea. (ALL HUMAN).**

**Out of my hands**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

It had just been a touch of hands, a glance backwards, a small laugh. Not once was it intended for us to go further. Never, never was it meant to be like it is today.

I scraped my fingers through my hair and made myself look into the mirror. My eyes were glittering with excitement, my hair completely dishevelled due to stress. Bags, although not present three months ago, were now beginning to appear beneath my eyes due to the lack of sleep I had been getting. Anna was worried about me, but I made sure to make her feel at ease. No-one, after all, could know, not even, Anna.

Grabbing the brush from the small wooden table beside me, I pulled it through my curls. I was desperately trying to ignore my heart, and yet it wouldn't shut up! The internal battle inside of me was as far away from a truce between Germany was with England. Each time I thought logically about the situation I was in, my heart shot back again and my mind had to stand down.

"You're not born to live a life without love, Esme," I reminded myself, gently, as I continued to remove the knots from my atrocious hair. "And you can't help who you fall in love with."

My mind although occupied, still bounced around with ideas. I couldn't even sit still for long anymore because I had to pace to calm myself.

What had I done to myself? What had I let trust do to me? What had I let _him _do to me?

Closing my eyes, I breathed in slowly, my ever fast beating heart finally becoming somewhat regular again. A smile, albeit uncertain, spread across my face, and although it was bound to end in misery and hurt, this was the happiest I had been in years. What was life without risk?

Complete, I let myself glide back into the compact bedroom that overtime, seemed to gradually grow smaller. Whether it was because we had been cooped up in here for far too long, or because boredom was gradually taking hold, I did not know. All I needed to worry about now, was the fact that one wrong movement could end my life.

Discarding that thought from my mind, I let myself carry on as if it were a normal occurrence. After all, I couldn't control my future. God was in charge of that.

"Where you going to, Es?"

Justyna's voice made me jump slightly as I tried to pin my hair up. Her facial expression in the hall mirror was almost sarcastic.

"Please," she continued in an equally sarcastic tone. "Do enlighten me to where you are off to."

I rolled my eyes and she giggled, throwing her coat across the wooden banister that led to the top floor that was now abandoned.

"Justyna," I sighed. "Is it illegal to try and be a girl every now and then?"

Shaking her head, she walked towards me humming before placing her hands on my shoulders and smiling with me.

"You look unnaturally happy considering there's a war going on."

"You know, Justyna, there's a little thing called optimism. Maybe you should get some, some time."

"You're just hilarious!" She replied in the same mocking tone I had used with her.

"I'll see you around three then, yes?"

Sighing, she nodded. "And you'll leave me, for hours on end, by myself...all alone!"

"Like you did to me this morning."

She stuck her tongue out at me like a five year old, waltzing over to my coat before handing it to me with a cheeky glint in her eye.

"You look weird," she finally stated, cocking her eye brow as she examined me. "Too girly."

"How can someone be too girly, Justyna?" I asked exasperated.

"You can."

Trying to keep a straight face, I allowed myself to walk over to my bureau, grabbing the small box which held my only pair of earrings. Putting them in with Justyna still staring at me, I carried on.

"Do you wish to explain?"

"I know you, Esme; you'd rather be climbing through the debris of torn apart houses than taking the safe path home. Given the chance, you'd probably join the army first chance you got if you could."

"Who said I wouldn't?"

Justyna scoffed, chucking my scarf over from beside her coat. "You couldn't, and don't argue, you're a woman."

"A headstrong woman with rights," I retorted. "I won't stand for sexism."

"That's just what we're used to, Esme."

"The world's changing. Women are being heard. You just wait and see. One day I'll be fighting along with those men against those German bastards."

"Just go, Esme. Your imagination is above normal."

Smirking, I pulled my coat on, my hand hovering above the handle. "Tell Anna I'm out, will you?"

"You know I will."

Waving brightly, I closed the door behind me, hurrying down the small tunnel before getting out into the bright light of day. The sun was blinding after having to spend nearly six weeks locked away in the darkness. I looked nervously around before running up the street and into a small desolate building to where I knew he would be.

My heart thudded nervously in my chest, and my breathing became irregular.

"Carlisle," I whispered, listening as it echoed off the walls. "Are you here?"

Arms wrapped around me from behind me and I squealed in horror. His musical laugh filled the spilt silence and I twisted in his hold.

"Don't you _ever _do that again!"

The shadows that flittered across his face made his hypnotising blue eyes stand out even more than what I had seen before. A smirk was painted across his beautiful features and he placed a finger delicately over my mouth.

"And why not?"

"I thought you were someone else. My life just flashed before my eyes, Soldier."

Letting go of me, he took my hand in his, walking me towards an open area of the old building.

"Do you trust me enough, Esme?"

Gulping, I nodded although he could not see it. "I do."

Carlisle squeezed my hand and I felt strangely at ease. It had been two months, just two months, but he treated me as his equal, and although I was bitter towards him in the past, I now realised he was what kept my life normal.

"I'm sorry, you know," I whimpered as he pulled me back into his body. "It's been so long."

"I understand," he replied, gently. "I heard a building not so far from you was ransacked the other day by Nazi forces." He sighed, holding me tighter. "God knows what I would've done if it were you."

"If it is me, Carlisle," I said, shaking visibly in his arms. "I don't want you to blame yourself."

He made a noise of what sounded like disgust. "I would have broken my promise, Esme. I would eternally blame myself."

I traced a finger over his facial features as he closed his eyes so that the only sound was our breathing. I ended by resting my finger in his lips like he had previously done with me.

"Don't," I whispered, hurt. "I know what it's like to blame yourself. I don't want others to feel what it's like, especially not you."

"Come here."

My arm was outstretched, my hand in his, as he took me into a bigger room where there stood a bed and a small wooden table. Upon it, a small wash basin and a sponge.

"You live here?" I gasped, my eyes travelling over the rapidly deteriorating building.

"Only when I'm on leave," Carlisle answered, smoothly.

"Why? Don't you have a family to go home to?"

My hand dropped from his as he let go and walked towards the plain double bed. "I do, Esme." But his reply seemed unconvincing. "I have at least a mother. A father as well, you know, but he doesn't care about me. My whole life my mother has raised me and loved me, my father is just a figure, my mother, however, is a parent."

A brief smile curved his lips before it melted away again.

"There is no reason for me to go home to him. My mother already understands."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, unsure on how to comfort him.

His head snapped up so he could see me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. After all," he countered. "It's people like me who have cause your life's mess."

Smiling bitterly, I gingerly walked towards him, sitting down next to him.

"You know, Soldier, you've suddenly given my life meaning."

I took his hand and curled my fingers around the back of it, tightly.

"Please remember that."

Carlisle exhaled in almost relief and stroked my cheek with his thumb, humming a song I didn't recognise. "Would it be too early to say that I love you?"

My heart skipped a beat and the world seemed to dissolve around me as I watched him intently. Unaware that a tear had escaped me, he brushed it away as I smiled shyly but contently, nonetheless.

"No, I don't think so." My voice seemed quiet and uneven as I replied, but a confession this big coming from someone who was meant to hate me had finally undone me.

A nervous chuckle emitted from his chest as he hugged me to him. I felt surprisingly safe in his strong, muscular arms.

"I love you too." And as the words left my mouth, I felt a weight finally lift off my shoulders.

Feeling a finger beneath my chin, he tilted my head back slightly so I was looking up at him, our eyes connecting. "Always, Esme."

And then in a blink of an eye, the space between us was gone and his lips were on mine, moving in synchronisation. His hands knotted in my hair and I did the same to him, almost desperately. I had a right to be loved by anyone, and Carlisle had a right to love anyone.

Breaking away, I rested my head on his chest as he stroked my hair.

"It's not meant to be like this, is it?"

Carlisle's chest fell as a deep sigh escaped him. "We have to take every day as it comes."

Finally complete, I closed my eyes in bliss and let his heart gently lure me into a sort of sleeping state. This was now out of my hands, but Carlisle was where I belonged.

**A/N – I found this chapter the hardest to write so far... **

**All I can hope is that you enjoyed it! And if you did, Please Review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	11. Delicate Time

**(A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way, all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.)**

**Delicate Time**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

Tears streamed down my face as footsteps walked madly above us. Justyna's next to me, her hand slipped into mine and I squeezed it tightly. _They're going to find us. They're going to kills us. Oh god, please, keep us safe._

"They're going to kill us!" Justyna cried in a hushed whisper.

I held her tighter as a pair of boots echoed from right above us. Placing a hand over her mouth, her tears settled on my upper hand and I bit my tongue as they stopped abruptly, before walking back the way they came. Letting out a shaky breath, I looked down at Justyna who's now buried her face in my shoulder. They're still upstairs, but it looks like they're redrawing.

"Esme," Justyna whispered, her hand clutching the material of my blouse in a fist. "What's your verdict?"

I didn't answer straight away, only when I felt everything had settled do I respond. "I think they're gone." There's a sudden shuffle of feet next to the door above us. I snatched my breath.

"They're gone," a voice croaked from above.

I timidly crawled up to the door and opened it to peer out. Anna's face came into view and the relief was obvious. I sighed, my shoulders relaxing slightly. Anna barely had enough time for her eyes to adjust to the darkness as I pulled her into my body and tears swelled and poured freely down my cheeks. Justyna was laughing in relief, but crying at the same time as she embraced us both in her arms.

"I thought I'd lose you both tonight," Anna admitted, cupping my face in her cold, sore hands.

"But you didn't, because you're a genius." And it was true. A trap door barely even visible or obvious created ready for us to stow away in if trouble arose.

"Did they find anything?" Justyna asked nervously.

Anna smirked in a sort of smugness and answered, "nothing." She paused, looking at us. "However, I want you to stay here tonight."

I grimaced, sighing as I pushed myself away from her. "It's cold-

"And dark," Justyna added.

"But safe," Anna finished. And there was to be no argument. I kissed Anna's cheek.

"Thank you," I muttered.

She brushed a tear from my cheek with her thumb, kissed my cheek and then did the same before Justyna before leaving us with a torch that we were absolutely "not meant to touch unless it was an emergency."

Justyna, still distraught, pushed herself into my arms as Anna left. Her head, rested on my shoulder begins to droop down to her chest as sleep claims her. Stroking her hair, I try to follow her into the realm of dreams, but as I drift off, my sleep is disrupted by nightmares so real, that I wake multiple times in a cold sweat, my breathing heavy and panicked. Only one person can make me that jumpy in my dreams. Carlisle.

His name sends a pang of loneliness through me and I ached for him to be holding me like I'm holding Justyna. I wished I could hear his voice in my ear, telling me he'd looks after me no matter what. But he's not here, and I'm scared, although I won't show it. And I don't understand that how after seeing what his country, his leader and people have done to us everywhere, how I can still find resolve in his being. How I feel so at home with him and not be frightened.

"Esme?" I flickered my gaze down onto Justyna's stirring form. I had been holding her the whole night, and as the sun rose, it sent rays of white light through the cracks in the wooden panels.

"What's the matter, baby?" She pushed herself closer to me, placing a hand on my cheek.

"You haven't slept." I was a statement I couldn't disagree with. Sighing, I concentrated on a spot in the wall behind us, trying to distract myself from _him._

Justyna, following my gaze continued. "You can tell me, you know. I'm not going to tell anyone."

But the problem was I didn't want to tell her. How could I admit, through everything Anna has done for us that I didn't think we had much time left? Those although we were being as truly careful as we could be, near misses were becoming far too frequent and far too close for my liking. That one day, we would be herded from this place and disposed off. I couldn't.

"Esme," Justyna pushed.

I caught her eye as she tipped her head back to look at me. I sucked in a short breath and spat it out. "I don't think we have long left now, Justyna."

Justyna frowned like I knew she would, processing the words in her thoughts. Pushing herself away slightly, she looked at me in what could only be disgust. She was shaking slightly as she spoke.

"How could you?" She accused in a hiss. "Anna has done _everything _for you – for us! She won't disappoint us now. I know she won't."

I felt tears stinging my eyes at her harsh tone. "I know, Justyna. But..." My voice broke and the first few tears fell down my cheeks. "I've messed up, Justyna. Big time."

I turned my head, burning from shame at my confession. No-one knew about _him. _No-one.

"Esme, you're scaring me."

"Can we go up?"

I didn't wait for an answer, I just pushed open the door and flung myself from the hideout we would probably soon be found in. Anna stood before me as I turned towards the door. Capturing the tears that still trickled down my cheeks, she sat me down and patiently waited for me to calm down.

"Would you like to explain what's wrong?" Her voice wasn't demanding or harsh, but soft and inviting. It made my throat constrict and my chest to tighten. I couldn't tell her about Carlisle, but she had a right to know, and that's what tore me into shreds.

"Anna," I breathed, my hands twisting around each other. "I need to tell you something."

Anna's brow creased as I began to spill my secret.

"There's someone apart from us," I stated, quietly so even I had to strain to hear it. "A man I had the fortune of meeting one terrible day."

Justyna's eyes narrowed and Anna closed her eyes. "Go on."

"He's..." I paused, my hands shaking so that I clasped them together and placed them on my lap. "He's –

"German," Justyna finished. I gave her a long, hard look as Anna adjusted to my confession. Clearing her throat, she made a point to keep eye contact with me.

"Esme, why?" I looked around the room, the light was slanting sharply through the windows now and so the sun had risen considerably from when I woke up.

I shook my head, admitting that I did not know. "I can't remember. He was... he was going to shoot me." Anna gasped and for a moment I thought she would pass out, but she didn't and so I continued. "But he didn't. He let me go. It was an incredible act of kindness, Anna. And not only did he do it once, he did it twice."

A smile flittered across my face quickly as I remembered his spontaneous acts of generosity.

"Esme, does he know," Anna trailed off, unwilling to ask further. "But he's also looking after us all."

Anna was pale when I looked up at her. Her eyes were almost unfocused. "Esme, I don't know what this is going to cause. The impact it will have."

I got up and began to pace from one side of the room to the other. I was gambling with all three of their lives. I was entrusting them all to one man's heart. I stopped suddenly as I caught a glimpse of blonde hair streaked back into a neat hair style. I drew in a breath as I stepped urgently away from the window. Justyna noticed my panic and took the first opportunity to see what had caused my alarm.

"So that's your soldier boy, is it?" Justyna's tone was almost spiteful and it made me angry. I span around on my heel and literally screamed.

"What have I done that is so wrong? I've fallen stupidly in love. I've lost _everyone! _Why can't I just be happy?" My voice cracked and I slumped against the wall in defeat. "If you want, I'll move out."

Justyna walked towards me and pulled me into her. I was so angry my limbs seemed to paralyse. Kissing my hair, Justyna apologised, and if I couldn't feel even worse, she had just done it.

"It's my fault. _My_ fault," I breathed out in frustration. "My stupid own fault."

Anna came over to where I stood defenceless. Taking my hands in hers, she allowed some of my fears to diffuse. "Let him in," she said quietly, almost a whisper.

I gawped at her suggestion. Let _him _in? But I'd never even suggested such a thing. "Anna, I haven't even begun to think that far ahead."

She brushed off my comment like a bit of dust on her coat. "Let him in," she repeated.

Gathering my coat I put my shoes on sloppily, running to the door to let Carlisle in from the undecided spring weather. Opening the door was quite a shock. We never went this way. Ever. It creaked uncertainly on its hinges as I swung it open, the noise alerting Carlisle to my presence. Spinning around, his face reflected mine. We were both utterly shocked about what I was doing.

"Coming in?" I asked, slightly unnerved about the whole thing.

A grin spread across his face and I relaxed somewhat. "If you don't mind," he replied, smoothly.

I rolled my eyes. "Be quick," I urged.

Carlisle half walked half jogged inside and I grabbed his hand in mine, leading him up the stairs to where I knew Anna and Justyna were waiting nervously and impatiently. I clutch his hand tighter as I come to the door that stands between me and my "family."

"Carlisle," I mumble. "I want you to meet-

"Us." The door is swung open enthusiastically, and there's Justyna stood with a polite smile on her face. A little stunned, Carlisle takes a while to reply.

"Hello." His German accent affects his Polish and Justyna gives a little sweet giggle. I'm surprised with how calm she's taking the situation.

"Hello, soldier," she replies which earns me a quick look from the corner of his eye. I smile knowingly and put my hands up in defence.

The floor boards creak from the inside the room Justyna's stood in and then Anna appears next to her. She has an indifferent expression on her face. Pursing her lips, she looks Carlisle up and down with a critical eye. Still unconvinced, she greeted him coldly.

"Hallo." Carlisle looked at me and I smiled. Another German, very much unlike his friends, would do him good.

"Hallo," Carlisle replied, offering her his hand. Anna took it cautiously, but says nothing against him.

Backing away from the door, she allows him to come in. It's a fairly open planned room compared to mine and Justyna's bedroom, but to be honest, it's nice to be in an open place for once. The last couple of days had us cooped up into the claustrophobic room downstairs.

Steadying myself, I smiled at him and took his hand. "Welcome to my home."

**A/N – I know, it's been ages since I last updated this story. My laptop has been playing up majorly and has annoyed me to no ends. Exams are coming thick and fast in the next couple of months, so I have to space my writing time out.**

**Anyways, I'm so happy this has been updated. And like always, if you enjoyed this chapter, please review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


	12. No Secrets

**A/N - I do not own **_**The Twilight Saga **_**or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to **_**Stephanie Meyer.**_

**No Secrets**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

Everyone has that place where you feel the safest. Whether it is your Mother's arms or your own house, we all have that place. Mine, ironically enough, is in a soldier's arms – someone's arms who are supposed to hurt me instead hold me close to their body, and I can't help but smile every time he pulls me close, because I know that finally, all faith in humanity hasn't been lost.

"Carlisle," I whispered, my voice soft as soft grey light flooded the small bedroom. He stirred but didn't wake and I allowed a smile to pass my lips. He looked so peaceful in sleep – not like the tortured soul I knew he could be.

"Carlisle," I repeated again, my palm resting against his chest. I saw his eyelids flutter until he finally, but groggily, came round. "Sleepy head," I mumbled, stroking his golden hair with my spare hand. He smiled at me, cupping my face with of his hands.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked, his voice hoarse and his hair dishevelled.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling and took Carlisle's hand in my own. Last night was utter bliss. I had never felt so scared but so loved at the same time... so perfectly in synch with another person. Never before had I felt I've meant so much to someone else – as if my existence was what Carlisle needed to breathe.

An involuntary laugh bubbled to my lips and Carlisle's smile broadened. "Thank you," I breathed, my cheeks stretched widely with a smile. "I mean, really, thank you. I've never felt like I've belonged and you... you showed me I did," I finished as his hand snaked around my waist.

"I love you," he mumbled into my hair, placing a chaste kiss on my temple left temple. "I feel the same towards you. You've shown me I can still be accepted through the turmoil every man today faces."

I turned my head to see the sun trying to break through the old, second hand curtains and just spent a moment listening to Carlisle's breathing. It was peaceful like this, almost eerie in a way because it was too perfect. I still had to remember that there was a war raging on, still had to remember that not all soldiers were as caring or as compassionate as Carlisle – Especially those who were turning against their own man – those like Charles who had turned his back against those who trusted him.

"What's wrong, Esme?" My thought must have hit a nerve because I'm suddenly breathing harshly and a frown has painted my face. I try to smile so I do not concern him, but it's hard to forget the betrayal of one man who was the reason my family were shot. "Esme?" I try to brush off my concern, but it's too late. The tears come suddenly and I surprise myself as well as Carlisle that I'm suddenly crying. Engulfing me totally in his arms, he presses me into his chest and I snake my arms around his neck, holding on as tightly as I dare to.

"I'm being... stupid," I whispered.

"You're not being stupid, Esme. Something's bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, always." I clutched him tighter and forced myself to breathe with more control, more order. Finally, composed, I pushed myself away from Carlisle's grasp and pushed myself up so that I sat on the edge of our bed. Carlisle's hand found my shoulder, but I brushed it off; standing up, I walked to the arm chair, sat facing the window, to my night gown thrown lazily across the back of it.

Pausing, I wrapped it around me, Carlisle, unknowingly to me, followed me out of bed and only when he placed his hand on my waist and pulled me back into his protective shell of a body. I closed my eyes and leant my head back onto his chest. He kissed the top of my head, and although his gesture was there to comfort me, I felt more lost than before.

"There was someone before you, Carlisle," I finally managed to confess.

I expected some sort of comment, something to know he was hurt, but instead he held me closer and replied, almost concerned with himself. "I should've known," he muttered. "I've replaced someone you used to love."

Shaking my head, I almost chuckled through the irony of our situation. I used to belong to someone who was supposed to be safe, and now I belonged to someone who could mean my immediate death. "I didn't love him," I retorted, the bitterness dripping off every word. "My parents wanted to find me a suitor, and so I nearly married this... man." It was hard to refer to Charles as a man after everything he put me through. "But he tormented me, Carlisle."

Carlisle's breathing had increased and I winced slightly from the memories I had left of Charles and our 'relationship.' "Esme, you don't need to –"

"I want to," I replied. It was there our trust between each other was consolidated. I would trust him with anything and everything I had to give him, including myself and my 'family's' safety. I tilted my head back to see Carlisle nod slightly, however the concern lined his face.

"It was nineteen-thirty-eight when I was first introduced to a man names Charles Evenson," I began, steadily. "He was quite the business man, wealthy and now I think about it, quite the charmer, too. He was also Jewish. My parents thought he was a lovely match for me and by no means of my own, we became partners."

Carlisle sighed and raised a hand up to run it through his hair. "What did he do?" he asked, although I was reluctant in answering.

"He was the charmer on the outside, Carlisle, but in private, well..." I trailed off and caught my breath, wanting so desperately to forget what happened between me and Charles.

"He abused you." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I deserved it half the time," I defended, the response automatic through the years of excuses I made on Charles' behalf.

"No-one deserves what you went through." I laughed sadistically, throwing my arms up in the air.

"But of course, the persecution of Jews and other non-German people is what I – others like me – deserve." Carlisle bowed his head and I immediately felt guilty for my irrational words. "Carlisle," I began, but I was cut off.

"No, I deserve it, Esme. I deserve it because it's true. I took part in your torment," he replied, his voice low and quiet now.

"No, Charles wasn't your fault." My voice sounded distant to me and it concerned me because I hadn't sounded so numb for a long time, not since Carlisle had made me his. I turned around in his arms and he whispered soft comforts in my ear.

"You can tell me anything, remember that," he said, his love for me clear in every word.

It took a moment, but after much debate, I guessed it would be better to tell him everything about me, especially after being entrusted with his darkest, deepest secrets. I didn't treat him any differently, did I? But if he knew about the baby...

"Carlisle I –" My voice stuck in my throat and one of his hands came up to cup my cheek. I closed my eyes briefly before finding the strength I needed to carry on. No secrets. That was our motto. "Carlisle, many things happened in such a brief time, it was... it was too much to bear."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Carlisle reminded me, his voice determined in making me believe his words.

I smiled, but it was weak and rather a response of sadness than anything else. "We never married," I whispered, although my voice broke and I hardly caught the sentence myself, so I repeated myself, stronger this time. "We never married, but I lived with him. We were supposed to get married in the autumn, but obvious problems got in our way."

I looked up to Carlisle and he nodded in understanding of our 'obvious problems.' Taking his hand, I led us both back to the unmade bed, the duvet half over the mattress so it was gathered on the bare wooden floor, the sheets bunched up in various places, clothes from last night still dotted around the bed, not one of us caring about the mess we had made. I sat on the edge of the bed, but Carlisle stood in front of me, the space beside me for his form to join mine not filled.

"We might have as well been married," I confessed, my voice slightly shaky. "He treated me as his property after all. Something he was proud to show off among his group of friends, or at prestigious parties we were invited to through his work."

"What was he, a doctor?" Carlisle questioned, his arms folding across his chest as the morning breeze greeted us with it's cold, unwelcome presence.

"No, a lawyer," I replied. "Not that he was very good at his job, anyway," I continued. "He drank more than he worked, his defendants nearly always lost their cases and he spent his wages in whore houses and on alcohol. My parents didn't believe them when I had told him what he was truly like."

Carlisle sighed and his eyes were brimmed with understanding. "They didn't want to see the position their daughter had been put in to, ignoring it meant it was easier to pretend nothing bad would happen to you."

I sat there, surprised with his words. "Exactly," I countered, "But surely..."

"My mother was the same when my father forced me into this... job," Carlisle revealed, his eyes now sad, almost as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. "But I know she'll always be there for me... somehow."

I placed a hand on his arm, my thumb stroking his skin, showing him my support and also acknowledgement of our parallels, but the soft smile I had growing on my lips descended as I realised how many more secrets Carlisle would need to know.

"He hurt me to remind me, to punish me, to show me who was in charge," I icily continued. "At first I fought against him, angry that he thought he had the right to treat his fiancée like he that, but as time wore on and the slaps became punches, the small spats hours of beatings, I learned to stop fighting against him." I dropped my head and clasped my hands together. Carlisle took his place next to me, tenderly placing a hand on my shoulder in which I threw off, because I couldn't bear to be touched by him as my next confession was too big to dismiss.

"What else, Esme?" Carlisle's tone was angry, I fleetingly dared to let my eyes meet his and I could see the fire raging in the back of his blue eyes. I cleared my throat, finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the lump forming there.

"He also" – I coughed again, hating myself in that moment for what I had to tell Carlisle – "He also raped me." Carlisle's arms wrapped protectively around me and a few too many tears fell down my cheeks.

"Esme, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

I breathed out in a rush, clutching his shoulders for an anchor. "Because I thought you'd kill me." But the joke was out of place in such a serious atmosphere.

"Does Anna know? Justyna?" I nodded into his chest and he stroked my hair. "Darling, it wasn't you fault."

I held him tighter, because his words didn't really mean anything to me. "I could've tried to stop him, Carlisle, but I'd lost myself by then," I replied, honestly. "Lost who I used to be completely until –"

"You don't need to tell me anymore, Esme."

But I did because I owed him the truth at least. "No, I do, because there are no secrets," I reminded him.

"No secrets," he agreed after a short, debating pause.

So with a final push, I finished. "A couple of weeks later, I learned I was pregnant." I felt as Carlisle's breath caught suddenly and I pushed myself away from him, my skin crawling with disgust. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle."

His eyes were closed but I could read every emotion flickering across his face, pain, disbelief, and finally, after everything, a discomforting calmness. "Don't be sorry, Esme, none of these things were your fault, it was one's actions conflicted on to you that caused these things to happen."

I was shocked that this hadn't destroyed us. "You don't hate me, Carlisle?"

"Do you hate me, Esme? After all, I've permitted and committed far worse crimes than you have."

"No, Carlisle, your father, I understand, he was the one who forced you into such disgusting actions."

"You see, Esme, it wasn't you then, was it. It was him." He leaned towards me, resting his forehead against mine so our lips were nearly touching, however, he continued with a question. "What happened to the baby?"

I lowered my eye line towards the mattress between us and I answered him. "I suffered a miscarriage."

"Oh, Esme, life has been so cruel to you, so unjust." His words knocked my life's pin on the head and I forgot the grief I had held off for many years.

"But it didn't stop there, Carlisle. Because through everything he had put me through, the final straw was what broke my family apart."

"Esme," Carlisle whispered, his voice as broken as mine. "It hurts to see you so upset."

"But I needed to tell you, and to do so, I need to finish."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I talked emotionlessly, the words as hollow as my heart. "He betrayed us, Carlisle. As soon as the war broke out, he changed drastically, and in nineteen-forty-one, he took his place as an SS soldier. He led the soldiers to my family and he stood there as he killed them! I was lucky I fled when I discovered I was pregnant, and so I avoided being shot by my own fiancée!" The anger bubbled to my lips and I cried in pain and hatred as Carlisle cradled me to him, his slow rocking trying to help me realise I had him left. "You know him, though, don't you?" I accused, quickly. "Because you stood there didn't you, part the firing squad as you lined up my family and shot them!"

Carlisle winced as if my words were a physical slap. "I'm sorry, Esme. I'm so, so sorry."

And although the anger still coursed through me I knew how sincere his apology was. I could hear and feel the ripples of pain as he could with me and so instead of feeling angry, exhaustion replaced the rational feeling that should be anger. I let my arms wrap around his back as I pulled him in and cried for the both of us, because in one way or another, we were both completely broken. The pieced we needed to put us back together hidden within the two of us, but still completely hidden from view.

**A/N – UPDATED! It's been so long, but I only have two exams left now and so it will be much quicker in updates after the 15****th**** of June! So sorry for the extremely long waits, especially for Milene Lira who has been waiting ages for this update!**

**Anyways, Please Review if you enjoyed this chapter! (What did you think of Charles' connection to Esme in this context?)**

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


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